placed the candles, and having sat down, looking as grave as judges on the bench, Aaron Bang exclaimed —“I'll bet a dozen, it is the poor fellow himself returned on our hands, half-dead from the rascally treatment he has met with at the hands of these smuggling thieves!"

"Smugglers, or no," said Fyall, "you are right for once, my peony rose, I do believe."

But Aaron was a leetle staggered, notwithstanding, when I stumped towards him, as already described, and he shifted back and back as I advanced, with a most laughable cast of countenance, between jest and earnest, while Fyall kept shouting to him-"If it be his ghost, try him in Latin, Mr. Bang-speak Latin to him, Aaron Bang-nothing for a ghost like Latin, it is their mother tongue."

Bang, who it seemed plumed himself on his erudition, forthwith began-" Quæ maribus solum tribuunter."-Aaron's conceit of exorcising a spirit with the fag-end of an old grammar rule would have tickled me under most circumstances; but I was far past laughing. I had more cause, indeed, for crying. I made another step. He hitched his chair back. "Bam, Bo, Rem!" shouted the incipient planting attorney. Another hitch, which carried him clean out of the supper-room, and across the narrow piazza; but, in this last movement, he made a regular false step, the two back-feet of his chair dropping over the first step of the front stairs, whereupon he lost his balance, and toppling over, vanished in a twinkling, and rolled down half a dozen steps, heels over head, until he lay sprawling on the manger or mule-trough before the door, where the beastesses are fed under Busha's own eye on all estates; for this excellent and